


Through the Ashes

by JusticeBanana



Series: We Rise [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Hurt Derek, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No Sex, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott is a Good Friend, Slow Romance, Sterek ReverseBang, Stiles Stilinski Takes Care Of Derek Hale, as per usual, derek is a bookworm, isaac is a mccall, kate is a fucking bitch, slowburn, stiles is a collegestudent, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 09:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11145423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JusticeBanana/pseuds/JusticeBanana
Summary: Stiles didn’t really know what he expected when he walked into the kitchen coming home from Scott, Isaac and Melissa’s. It sure as hell wasn’t his dad sitting and staring at a Wolf. A wolf, in their kitchen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a really fun thing to do and it was so amazing! I really love the art that FrogsandBoxes made and I knew directly how I wanted the romance to pan out. All of it didn't fit in the schedule so I'll make a part two! Yay!  
> Also a big thanks to Ablackeyedboy for betaing the text! Been so fun working with other people with this and not just being cooped up in my hole haha.  
> Well, Enjoy!

> _You may write me down in history_
> 
> _With your bitter, twisted lies,_
> 
> _You may trod me in the very dirt_
> 
> _But still, like dust, I’ll rise._
> 
> _\- Maya Angelou_

 

 

 

Stiles didn’t really know what he expected when he walked into the kitchen coming home from Scott, Isaac and Melissa’s. It sure as hell wasn’t his dad sitting and staring at a _Wolf._ A wolf, in their kitchen. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be angry or if he was going to question his dad’s sanity. He did both. The wolf was big, not huge but big. He had angry eyes, that in this second were burning a hole in their kitchen table in what was probably his best effort not to look directly at Stiles and his dad. His hair was black and looked like it was the softest thing in history, as was his stubble. Point in case: he was good looking.

“Are you insane? Or like are we in an everything-is-different-world?”

“Stiles, this is Derek, he’s going to be here until the next auction in May, alright?” his dad said sadly, which wasn’t all that weird. They had long since turned their backs against slavery in this family, and being only two people left in said family made it easier to uphold and get away from society’s questioning eyes about “why don’t you have a wolf, they are so good with labor?” It always made his dad cringe, him too for that matter. They always claimed to not want to waste precious money on that when they had other things to focus on. People usually just pushed out a comment about how police salary wasn’t what it used to be. So why was there a slave in their kitchen?

“What about, uh. You know.” He hated to ask because he knew that this Derek would probably get both better sleep and better food here but he asked anyway. _The pound_ they called it. The large warehouse where unclaimed wolves waited until they got “adopted”, bought, or killed off. The government didn’t want to waste money and space on wolves no one wanted to ever buy or even take on for free in some cases. It was barbaric and had made him blow his fucking top more than once. He got kicked out of college once because of it. So, he now went to community college instead, moved back home and now he had a wolf at his table. Maybe he should cook steak tonight.

“Full. They apparently found a pack out in the preserve trying to get away from this whole mess, god knows where they came from or where they were headed but now they are there. So when they were going to take him out back I took him with me” he let the rest go unsaid. They were probably going to shoot him right there and then and they all knew it.

“Alright then big guy,” he looked at Derek then properly for the first time and looked him in the eye, were they all that big and like gorgeous? “How about a shower and some food?”

 

Even when Stiles placed the plate in front of him, after he had a very confused shower and begrudgingly agreed not to crawl back into his dirty clothes but instead nodded coldly when Stiles placed a pair of his dad’s police sweatpants and a t-shirt in his hands before he told him to shower. He looked at them like they were aliens. It made Stiles nauseous to think about it, because when someone looked at you like that when you treated them with the bare minimum of respect it was bad. So, so bad.

 

There were scars on Derek’s wrists, white and shiny, long since healed wounds from what he guessed would have been chains or cuffs. It was all he could look at throughout the meal, his dad seemingly unable to stop looking either. Wolves didn’t scar. That was the main reason people could treat their slaves like shit, because no one could prove they had taken their fucking back off with a bullwhip or do whatever else they pleased. So, either his last “family” had been vicious and wanted it to show.

Or he hadn’t always been a wolf.

He didn’t know what was worse, if he got them when he was “free” or if they refused to let him heal by whichever means that took and gloated in the fact that he wasn’t free. There was a scar peaking up from the collar of the t-shirt too. Or peaking would be under representing it, it was about two inches thick and covered the whole diameter of Derek’s throat and it was a bit too much for Stiles’ stomach. Stiles put his cutlery down and just sipped at his Coke, no way he could eat thinking about open wounds and mangled flesh. He was squeamish. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain and humiliation in wearing a collar just because someone else said so. Or he could really, but those thoughts were in safe spaces and kinky consensual places. No less wearing one until the point of it causing wounds. A constant fucking reminder of the status he had. He realized he was getting more and more angry as Derek dropped his cutlery and cautiously said sorry.

“What?” Stiles said dumbstruck. He hadn’t done anything?

“You’re angry. I’m sorry.” He said, it was the first time Stiles had heard his voice.

“What, no, that’s not your fault, shit. Um, don’t worry about that alright?”

“Yes.” He said and nodded. He sounded rough and tired and maybe a tiny bit grumpy. But to be fair he could be grumpy for the rest of his life and he still would have more reason to be grumpy in however many lives he had after that or in heaven or whatever. Did he smell it? He'd heard that wolves could smell emotions but they hadn’t confirmed it.. He wouldn’t have said anything either.

“Does it smell bitter or like roses when people get pissy?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“Stiles, god damn it.”

“Sorry Dad. I’m shutting up, no more weird questions.” He said and dragged his fingers over his mouth in a zipping up gesture. His dad just smiles and shakes his head.

“It’s sour Sir” Stiles whipped his head around because Derek had just answered. Shit, that was so cool and fucking awful.

“Woah, unpleasant. Sorry, I’m gonna keep the irritation and anger at a minimum. Scouts honor! And please don’t call me sir” he winced. His dad just shook his head and sighed a little but there was a small smile in the corner of his mouth. Derek looked like someone had punched him in the gut. Was he coming on too strong? _Was he being too kind?_ Why was that even a fucking option?! “Call me Stiles, or Mr. Awesome.”

“Yes Stiles.” Derek nodded. Well improvement?

“Derek, you don’t need to be formal here, call me John, my son is Stiles and Stiles only,” he threw his son a glance and he grinned. “And if you are hungry, thirsty or tired you drink, eat or sleep, alright? Just like I told you earlier.”

“Yes John.” He nodded again, Stiles winced. How could people live their whole lives like this? Having worn down people at their mercy and not treating them with respect? Break them down. He knew Derek wasn’t broken. He had no idea why he was so adamant that he wasn’t, but he knew. Maybe he didn’t want to deal with the fact that he actually might be broken. Or maybe it was the way Derek had that glimmer in his eyes, the determination and the grumpiness. No, Derek wasn’t broken. He never would be. He kept looking at Derek and throwing him glances from time to time throughout dinner. The man was astounding but this was not the time to get a crush.

 

In the end when everyone seemed to be full and done with dinner. Derek staring at the plate like he would conquer it and win, the level of determination as he took another bite of chicken would’ve been hilarious if it  wasn’t for the fact that the amount he’d eaten hadn’t  even have been close to the portion a grown ass wolf should be able to eat. John stood up and started cleaning the table and Stiles tried to gently tell Derek  not to fly up and do it. He listened. Unsurprisingly. The day he didn’t do something when told he’d get a cake. Stiles vowed on cake!

 

Later that night when they had ushered Derek into the guestroom and told him he could sleep if he was tired otherwise well…  he looked pretty tired, so Stiles guessed that was what he was going to do.

“You think you did the right thing Dad, and you did.” He said as he threw himself down on the sofa next to his father. The Sheriff pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and sighed heavily. Like he always did when he thought. There was a tumbler of Jack on the table, Stiles took a sip before handing it to his father. They passed the glass back and forth until it was empty.

“I think I made the right _choice_ , I couldn’t let them kill him. What if I did the wrong _thing_? Who knows where he’s going to end up?” What if death had been better? Was what he was really wondering and it was a pretty good fucking question. The dude was traumatized as fuck.

“Easy, we don’t take him to the damn auction. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

“Stiles we can’t just not take him.”

“Of course, we can, we keep him, let him live in at least some form of peace. We’ve got to make the choice that counts, the one that matters, and sending him into more hard work and pain is not the right one. We can’t save everyone dad. We can’t end slavery with a stop slavery sign and rhymes, but we can make his life a tiny bit easier and treat him like we would each other. Like Scott.” He couldn’t stop thinking  what if this was Scott?! He would have wanted someone to do this for Scott. They had fought tooth and nail to let Melissa keep Scott when he was bitten. She had to _buy_ him. Not that Scott could use his college fund anyway but it broke Melissa’s heart, her whole spirit. But in the end, he got to come back home after a few days at the pound. Being Scott he also brought another person, wolf, with him, claiming that he needed Scott and Scott needed him. So now there were three people in the McCall household. Scott lost his freedom but he gained a brother and he kept telling everyone that, when they gave Melissa their condolences. He also glared at them, not that Scott’s glare had gotten the least bit more intimidating.  “We just need to think about how we do this, I have a feeling that just throwing him into the family dynamic will scare him more than anything. Ughh, why is it even a thing that being too kind is scary?”

“You’re right,” he sighed. “I’ll go fill in all paperwork tomorrow and get some supplies.”

“Yes, you will big boss! And I will go grocery shopping!”

* * *

 

Derek twisted around in the bed in the guestroom upstairs as he listened to them talk. What was this place? He had figured the Argents, _that Kate_ , was different, harsher, but this was ridiculous. They hadn’t even restrained him. He fell asleep trying to figure out if Scott was another family member or something.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek looked at the branding tool with a blank face. He stared at the Stiles kid, not directly in the eyes because he was not suicidal. Derek could probably snap him in half but then he’d be prosecuted or rather; killed gruesomely in public or on prime-time TV and most likely whipped before. He needed to save his family before he could be reckless. What was left of it anyways. He just didn’t know how. Or if there was anything left of it.

* * *

 

Stiles sighed as Derek removed his shirt. It’d been two days of awkward running around and avoiding each other. In theory he would be great at taking care of another person and helping them into society or whatever. He was on his way to becoming a social worker god damn it. But no, he sucked. His Dad had taken care of almost everything, he’d talked to him and done all those things Stiles would have thought to be easier. But it was so hard. Because this wasn’t a theoretical situation anymore. Derek was actually there and needed something better and Stiles had no idea what he needed for things to become better and it was fucking with him. It had been two days but he still hadn’t processed the fact that Derek was littered with scars and marks. Or gotten used to seeing the dark circles around his eyes and his sad grumpy looks. They had gotten Derek’s papers now. He hadn’t looked at them yet. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know more about Derek. Like his last name or how old he was and he sure didn’t want to know about his history and where he’d been.

So now he just felt a little bit sick thinking about everything while looking at the older wolf as his dad held up the sleek branding tool, like those you used for woodwork to burn patterns into the wood, and looked at it with disgust. But Derek sat calm. The second the red, glowing and _burning_ pen-like torture tool touched his arm, Stiles felt his stomach churn. Derek clenched his jaws as the tool touched skin but didn’t react in any other way. It wasn’t until they rubbed the red and burned mark with aconite that he let out a whimper. They had crossed over the old ‘A’ on his hipbone and written a, much bigger than any of them liked, ‘S’ on his right bicep. All those scars he had, all that pain. Stiles walked out before the guy from the pound was done with rubbing poison into Derek’s wound. Stiles wondered if he’d ever be able to look at Derek’s back. It was covered in scars, long, short, thick, thin and wounds that had been just breaking the skin, and some that would’ve been deeper than Stiles would like to think about. Turns out that he could.

 

The weeks pressed on like that, and after about two weeks, Derek actually looked him in the eye when he tried to speak to him.  After that he seemed to understand that he wouldn’t be in trouble with him and his father so the wolf kept doing it, every time he said something he would look them dead in the eye, and Stiles preened. He started going to bed with hope instead of dread for the wolfs’ future.

 

“So Derek, we have now come to an impasse. You _know_ we don’t want to hurt you, but you _feel_ vulnerable.” He started but got off track when he looked at the wolves now sadden expression. “I know you can like feel lies or is that not true?” when Derek nodded between his bite of the sandwich wedged in his hands. “Okay so like I want you to do that. Because I won’t hurt you, I’m not evil. More like morally dubious and have thing for poetic justice and you are not the one that have done anything wrong.” He said and looked at the wolf as he placed the sandwich on the plate in front of him. His last “family” was the one in the wrong. The ones that had dumped him in the woods without either a member of the family or a collar, like they had grown tired of him. They dumped him there knowing it would result in his death. Malnourished and weak, and making it look like he ran away. Which even if he did survive, someone would either shoot him or no one would want him since he ran. It wasn’t an uncommon way to get rid of slaves no one wanted.  A slave without a collar and a guardian was to be shot on sight.

 

“You sound like my uncle.” Derek smiled sadly after a few seconds and pushed the ceramic plate away from himself. “He always said that the best justice is the poetic kind. It’s more satisfactory.” He said and Stiles felt a pang of sadness for him. He had a family out there that he couldn’t see. People he missed that missed him just as much. He wondered when the last time was that he got to see any of them, any of his family. He doubted the Argents let him see them unless they were also with them as slaves. He could scratch family picnics off the list of what they had the rights to do.

“You must miss them a lot. Your family.” Stiles looked at the wolf, tried to read him, but he still just looked like he used to, tightly knitted eyebrows and a sullen face.

“All the time.” He said and Stiles dropped the subject. Derek seemed to warm up to him even more after that. Almost like he started to trust them. They didn’t put him to work, they had a schedule, like he and his dad always had. Unless the Sheriff got called in, he did the dishes on the weekends and Stiles did them on weekdays. Now he shared weekdays with Derek who sometimes still looked at him wearily when Stiles grabbed his plate and went to work. So Sheriff, Saturday and Sunday, Stiles Monday, Wednesday and Friday and Derek the remaining two. Although he tried to help everyday he seemed to come more and more to term with the fact that they weren’t going to _use_ him.

 

* * *

 

Scott, the wolf _friend_ of Stiles’, he learned was ticklish. It’s the weirdest thing he had ever seen. The two boys were rolling around on the grass tickling each other and having _fun._ In the moment Derek can’t quite comprehend what’s happening? Scott _trusted_ Stiles like that? Stiles was a human, Scott sure wasn’t, how could they do that, it’s not how it works! Even before he and his family were found and enslaved he didn’t hang around humans, they were smallminded and capitalistic people who greedily and shamelessly used and abused what wasn’t their right. When they did end up having to socialize like humans they never treated them like friends, that was a dire mistake that Derek had almost fallen for, even ‘almost’ had ruined their chances to be free. Kate had found them, they tried to hide, at least blend in, they had fooled many, but not her. He winced inwardly as he saw her in his mind, the memories of her killing the weak and the old before carting them all away to slavery.

When the truck took them passed their house, the whole thing had stood in flame.


	3. Chapter 3

To society wolves, _slaves,_ were like cars. Shiny new sparkling cars, or run down and carted off to the junkyard cars. Either way the whole thing was revolting. No one is actually speaking about them as cars but they are treated as such and even worse than cars. You buy a new sparkly one for your child’s 16th birthday or as a graduation gift, you run it to the ground and hit it in weak spots to make it work again. You use it to brag about the fact that yours cost more than your neighbours’ and isn’t it a nice _breed_. They hand it down to the next generation, and you get one _leased. Leased_ like a god damned Toyota Prius by a mid-40’s lady that “needs” to be eco-friendly for the environment to impress her richer friends. For a monthly fee you get a slave specified for what you want and/or need, cleaning, building, fucking, personal service, whipping-boy, whatever you needed. Fuck, people even rented one for the day. They weren’t even living beings anymore, they were things.

Stiles hated the fact that he thought about that almost daily. He just kept running it over and over in his head. He could start changing things, not that he knew how but he could start right? But here he was thinking about how dehumanized they were and just making himself sad, and what right did he have to be sad? He was using the system every fucking day right? He threw his course book at the dresser and cursed as it hit a picture frame.

“Fucking shit fuck, no ughh.”

“Eloquent.” Scott said from his bed where he was playing on his phone.

“When did you learn that word Scotty, a bit out of your range.” He teased and the wolf glared at him but the smile broke through.

“It was in my word of the day app.” He said proudly and Stiles laughed.

“Good bro, get on that clever train.”

“I’m plenty clever Stiles!”

“You thought that mitochondria was an std.”

“That was an honest mistake! You can’t hold High School against me, no one knew that besides you and Lydia, and it was freshman year!” he huffed and looked like a kicked puppy.

“Fair enough. Good thing you can’t contract the mitochondria std now as a kick ass werewolf.”

“That is a bonus, no condoms needed bro.”

“You disgust me.” Stiles said and faked vomiting just as he saw Derek in the doorway. “Hey, what’s up Sourwolf?” Derek looked at him, perplexed.

“Sourwolf?” he asked carefully, eyebrows doing an awful lot of talking about what he thought about that name.

“I.. Shit, it’s kind of the nickname I gave you in my head. You are a little bit grumpy, and by all means, be grumpy. You probably don’t like that nickname do you? I won’t use it again.” Derek just nodded.

“Please don’t.” he said and started to walk towards the broken frame on the carpeted floor. Stiles couldn’t help but feel ridiculously happy that he had said ‘please don’t’ that he’d said what he wanted! “I heard the glass break, thought I’d see if you needed help.” Derek continued.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll clean up my own angry messes.” He reassured him and Derek left with a grunt.

“Bro!” Scott said and looked at him after a while.

“What?” he said, just a tiny bit confused.

“He lied to you!”

“What?!” he got a little bit nervous.

“He totally lied when he said to please not call him that! He likes it! You should continue.” Scott said and wiggled his eyebrows “seductively”

“Oh my god Scott no! I don’t care if he lied, he told me not too, I don’t want to go against that.”

“You do it with me all the time, go against what I say for what I really mean!”

“Yes, I do, but you are my brother and even though you are a wolf, you kind of have a more stable life right now. You _know_ you can tell me or Dad to fuck off, I’m not so sure he knows that, and until he does I am going to be Careful-Stiles!”

“Careful-Stiles isn’t even real!” Scott said and threw a pillow on him.

“He is now!” and then they had a pillow fight, his dad berated them like they were five and they hung their heads and started to clean up all the tiny feathers and Derek… Derek almost smiled, one corner of his mouth went up when the Sheriff yelled about being responsible and not having slashed up feathery pillows all over the house. A smile.

 

“Derek,” Stiles turned and looked to the wolf who was getting more and more comfortable and more and more trusting. Well maybe not trusting that was yet to come, but he didn’t expect pain or punishment anymore,  he’d stopped calling them sir and stuff and he also ate when he wanted to and so on. It was a win really but he couldn’t stop thinking about his family.

“Yes?” Derek hummed and didn’t quite look up from his book, Stiles snickered, he had shown him his mother’s book collection week number three and said he could help himself to any book he fancied and the wolf had once again looked at him like he grew a third head but had gently taken a battered old copy of To Kill a Mockingbird off the shelf. Stiles did not like that book but Derek seemed to so he let him, it used to be one of his mother’s favorites too.

“Was your family with you at the Argents?” he watched as Derek tensed and put the book away before shaking his head. Stiles nodded, didn’t push for more, but after a while Derek spoke up.

“Kate liked me, she sent the others away, last I heard it was only my uncle left. They sent him to the pits I think.” He said sadly and Stiles heart broke. If he was  even still alive in the pits he’d be ruined. And that was a big if.

“She took a fancy to me, Kate. We were passing through, merely thinking of staying. We never engaged with humans, we knew it was dangerous, but she was adamant about getting to know me, us. We let her, we had fooled people before, then moved on and forgotten all about the close calls. She liked me, in some twisted way. Somehow, she found out what we were, I didn’t know, one night she showed up with around ten armed men and we knew. She made sure to kill most of us, the weak, the old. _Children_ that wouldn’t be good slaves.  She said she wanted to keep me, as an example. Said that if I could trick her into wanting me, I should have to live with that.” He shot it all out, not fast but with a stressed voice. Stiles could feel his anger burn. _Children, weak and old people. Derek._ What could he possibly say, what could he tell Derek to make him happy?!

Nothing.

“She tortured you for years.” He said instead and Derek nodded before he rose and walked out before Stiles could say anything more. Maybe that was for the best, telling the man that he was planning on finding every single one of his living relatives might not be a good idea if there weren’t any left.

* * *

 

Derek couldn’t understand why he had told Stiles about his family, or about _Kate,_ but he had and he couldn’t understand why he felt like it was a good idea. Why did he tell him?

Why?

 


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles was searching. He looked through every paper that existed on Derek. He had been sixteen when they had captured his pack. _Sixteen._ That would have made Kate Argent 27 if the public records were true, and he had faith in that. Derek had said she had been _interested_ and kept him as a pet to torture when she found out, for ten years. He pushed the bile threatening to rise in his throat  away and did his magic. All slaves had to be registered so that in case of a dispute etc could be solved, also because then if they got loose they couldn’t pretend to be humans in any way. He found a few Hales, but none related to Derek or to the pack that had been captured. He did stumble on a few death certificates and cried for a while when he realized it was Derek’s parents and younger brother, at the time of capture. They had been executed and burned.

This wasn’t going to be fixed with a “have a happy home with us and let’s find your family.” Derek was probably having some hardwired issues to deal with and Stiles couldn’t fix that.

Once he went back to searching he felt hardened. He had understood now that this was all so very real, the risk of them being dead were greater than them being alive and he couldn’t waste time crying over everyone before he found out if any of them were still alive.

Patrick Hale – Father – dead

Talia Hale – mother – dead

Laura Hale – Sister – dead

Cora Hale – sister – presumed dead/lost

Jonah Hale – brother – dead

Marcus Hale – brother - dead

Olivia Hale – aunt – dead

Peter Hale – uncle – alive

There would be more people on record if they had been captured and registered but most of them seemed to have died in the fire, his parents it seemed had been registered before and most of his sibling had been captured too. It didn’t say how they died and Stiles didn’t really want to know but there they were, the two lifelines. _Hope._

“Dad, I may need access to records I probably shouldn’t have access to, how do you feel about you, say, happening to leave your computer logged on when I bring you your morning coffee tomorrow at the station and you just may have to like say, go to the bathroom or, talk to Parrish, just you know.”

“For what? Stiles, I have never let you do that and I never will.”

“Come on, please, it’s for a good cause, and I already know how to make sure it doesn’t show I’ve searched for stuff.”

“Okay okay, slow down, you have done what exactly on my office computer before?”

“Please,” he huffed “I once used it to egg Harris’ house, I needed to know where he lived. And..”

“ _That’s_ how you knew where he lived?! STILES!” Stiles just ushered him to be quiet before he got too angry.

“Calm down, and how exactly do you think I knew where Scott was when they took him away, we don’t actually have a telepathic connection despite trying to figure out how.” When the realization dawned on his father the older man calmed visibly and rubbed his temples.

“I won’t let you use it, but I guess I can’t stop you if, _if,_ it happens to be logged on one of these days.” Stiles was about to give him a victory hug when his father raised his hand. “What is this good cause Stiles?”

“I don’t know if this will work, but I promise it’s not dangerous and if it ever gets dangerous I will tell you so you can save my skinny white ass.” The Sheriff sighed and nodded solemnly.

“Plausible deniability Stiles, just be careful son.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” He said and hugged his father. Now he just needed to find out where Derek’s uncle was being kept and how he could get too him.

 

 

 

“Scott!!!” Stiles yelled as he ran into the McCall household. Isaac stopped midchew at the dining table and popped his head out the doorway.

“He’s at the store with Melissa. What?”

“I found him, I found him and guess what, I FOUND HIM!”

“Found who?!” Isaac said confused and started eating his sandwich again, at the same time Scott opened the front door and rushed inside.

“YOU FOUND HIM!? Oh my god Stiles that is great!”

“Found who!?” Isaac and Melissa asked at the same time. Both looking equally disheveled and if it weren’t for the fact that Melissa was Hispanic and Isaac was probably the whitest dude to be white, they would have actually been sharing the same confused genepool.

“Derek’s uncle!” Stiles said with a goofy grin. He could maybe give Derek his family back, he could at least tell him he was alive, he could keep an eye on him at the least. Hopefully he could do something else too. The thought of Derek’s reaction, his hopefully happy reaction made him warm, made him question his sanity.

 

 

“You found my uncle.” Derek repeated for the fourth time with disbelief.

“Yes, I …” now he didn’t know what to say anymore.

“Where is he?” The Sheriff asked and looked at his son.

“He’s still in the pits, I’m sorry Derek but I don’t know if we can do anything about that.” He said and hung his head a little but Derek didn’t seem sadder by the omission.

“He’s strong, if he’d made it this long he’s going to survive for a while more. I’m just glad he is alive.” He said and he started crying. He smiled a little underneath the tears and Stiles dared to inch forward some more, his leg gently nudging the older wolf’s  knee.

“I’ll keep tabs on him Derek, I’ll tell you what’s going on alright?”

“Thank you” Derek said sincerely and did the last thing Stiles could ever imagine right now. He hugged him.

 

* * *

 

 Peter was alive. He was alive and fighting to stay that way and Derek was happier than before. Because now he knew, he knew he had something to fight for. Trusting Stiles on this wasn’t going to be easy, there was a voice in his head claiming he only did this for Derek to break him down or to mess with him and what if Peter was already dead?! He brushed it away. All in all, the Stilinskis had proven themselves good people.

It had taken him weeks, maybe even the first one and a half month to realize they didn’t get him because they wanted him to work. But he refused still to be grateful for being saved from death by being a slave once more. Even a well-treated and safe slave.  He was tired of having no freedom, even if the freedom he grew up with was barely even that, it was still better. But Stiles, he was starting to trust Stiles. He never lied about the things that mattered, only to his father about eating the Sheriff’s “hidden” stash of cookies.

The boy was kind, and he started to understand why Scott was friends with him. He was still unsure about whether Scott had always been a wolf. The other one though, Isaac, he was sure he had always been one. Everything about him screamed born wolf. Maybe since they obviously trusted him and were even friends with him maybe he could too? The fact that he’d overheard Scott telling Stiles about his progress in learning to read and write beyond ‘third grade standards’, Scott had seemed so proud.

He had met Isaac once, when there had been a dinner at the Sheriffs’ house and the McCall’s had been over. Isaac’d tried to tell him he should relax, these were good people, trying to fight one way or another for him and Scott, even Derek he’d said before they had left. Maybe he should just trust them all, start to unwind a little. He already had, so why not just continue.


	5. Chapter 5

Peter Hale were currently still at the pits, and that made Stiles feel lightly anxious. He never knew if the next time he looked, there would be a tick in the deceased box. He hit the update button quickly and he froze.

It wasn’t exactly the pits but it was an auction. He didn’t have any money to buy a slave and even if he did, if he was a really good fighter he might get sold for a lot. But if he didn’t try and Peter didn’t get sold, he would be killed. Shit. He had to tell Derek.

But first he had to talk to his dad. Did they even have money to get him or was Peter going to slip right through his fingers?

But just, the concept of this whole mess: He was going to buy his slave, Derek’s own uncle as a fucking gift. Or he was going to reunite a family that probably hadn’t seen each other for a great while.

“Dad, how am I going to be able to do this? We don’t have any money, God we’re still in debt since mom’s hospital stay. I can’t let him slip away or worse and I just... “he was thinking about ripping his own hair out like the frustrated cartoon characters did, but he didn’t. His father looked at him sadly and he knew he didn’t have any better ideas.

“I really don’t know Stiles, and you got to listen to me and know I don’t mean anything by this but maybe you can’t do anything, maybe you shouldn’t. I’m not saying to let everything go, I’m just saying that you can’t drive yourself crazy trying to do something that isn’t actually possible.” He said and rubbed his temples as he looked downright sad.

“I know Dad, I just. I’ve got to get Peter out of the pits, for Derek and...”

“I have money, will that get him out?” Both Stiles and the Sheriff turned at Derek’s nervous voice.

“Sit down son.” The sheriff said and pointed towards the chair next to Stiles’. Derek almost rushed forward to the chair and slumped down.

“Will it?” he asked impatiently.

Stiles nodded, “He’s supposed to be at an auction in a little over a week.”

“If you go there I’ll give you the money.” Derek’s face was set in stubbornness and Stiles had a feeling that even if he or his dad in a distant universe would like to deny him, they couldn’t.

“Where do you even have this money son? I don’t mean to pry but how have you managed to get a hold of it?” The older man looked apologetic as he asked but Derek didn’t seem to mind, not now that he had his sights set on Peter.

“My family had money, before.” He said and Stiles realized in little bit of shame that he hadn’t told his father that the wolf used to be free. Then again that wasn’t even his thing to tell. Was it? “We always hid it, in case something should happen. There’s a vault next to the High school. We hid it there.” The statement was a matter of fact and Stiles felt relieved, they had money, he could use what he needed to get Peter out then he would stash the rest away for them, or let them stash it away. Someday he was sure they could need it.

“It would be mean of me not to help you get a secured spot at the auction. You two do the rest and I will get the papers in order.” The Sheriff looked at them both and smiled, the two younger men both tried not to, but their smiles were slowly conquering. So away he went, no auction was a walk in, you had to register and get a number and all that jazz and then all had to be approved and signed. You had to state reason and intent and so on, but this was happening and now they had got the money, they waited.

 

The school was eerie at night, Derek seemed even less happy to be here than Stiles did and he guessed he could understand why, but those locker rooms were still giving him nightmares from time to time. Sweat, evil older guys and cold showers. They passed the actual school building and Derek stopped in front of the battered sign a few yards away.

“This is it?” he asked the wolf. “A sign?” Derek rolled his eyes and did _something_ , god knows what that was but a few minutes later they were standing under the school.

“My family used to live here, when people didn’t know we existed, when they thought we were human. We never hurt anyone, not that I know. When the wars broke out the Hale family fled, left almost nothing behind but this bunker, there are heirlooms here, money. All we have ever had. We thought coming back here would be a safer option than running around from place to place. That we could hide here, wolves don’t usually have money or documents of holdings and buildings and we weren’t in the system as wolves, we thought we could maybe be safe. Guess we were wrong.” The wolf didn’t look at him when he spoke but he gestured to paintings and bags and it all collapsed. First Derek did, he slumped down, defeated on the ground and Stiles was close behind. He hugged him and they both cried, they cried and Stiles made him a promise. Maybe he would regret promising Derek something he may never actually be able to get him but he swore he would someday be free. Derek didn’t believe him.

The fact that they got back home without any drawbacks and with a full bag of cash made Stiles both happy but also weary, did that mean it would be worse later?

“How will I even know which one is him Derek?” Stiles whined, he was both nervous and excited.   
“He will be a total asshole, have a lot of scars and is probably going to be sassing you crazy.” Derek deadpanned and after a few seconds let out a small smile.   
“I think I like him already, he’s gonna fit in great!” Stiles smiled and Derek laughed a little.

* * *

 

Stiles sat, almost shaking, on the chair in the town hall. His dad had secured a place for him, there hadn’t even been many questions asked, the deputy in charge of security for the night had asked him if “it wasn’t better with two after all now that he’d gotten the taste of a great and housework free life.” Stiles had just agreed and contemplated on how he’d possibly get this to work.

“There’s a little bird whispering in my ear that you are here to bid on yet another wolf, after having gotten your young hands on one of ours?” A sickly sweet female voice said and Stiles jumped in his seat, he’d been way too focused on the stage instead of the people around him. Not that he’d thought he’d need to keep track of the other people.

“Well, yes.” He said, he wasn’t about to spill it all, he had seen movies.

“Hope you find what you are looking for, we are having a few prime wolves on the auction tonight, found them wandering about in the woods a few months ago.” She said and Stiles felt nauseous from the way she talked about them like they were actual animals. The way she smirked and the way she looked at him like a hungry predator looking at prime pieces of meat. Though that wasn’t the greatest simile ever, he had a predator living in his house and he was a teddy bear, a very grumpy morning hating teddy bear with a hate for shaving. He _trimmed_ , Stiles regretted showing him all the ways to make that beard growth cherish, it was crazy distracting.

“Hope so.” He said and she gave him a grim look, and it clicked, this was Kate, _the Kate Argent_ , the barbaric bitch. Derek never went into details and Stiles didn’t really want to know those details, but he knew that the scars Derek had were because of her, and he knew she wanted them to be there. That she enjoyed every second of causing him pain and laughing at it. He barely fought back the urge to punch her or cry, maybe both. He realized that he’d since long stopped thinking about Derek as the save-the-wolf-man-project he started out as, sure it wasn’t because of fame or whatever but it wasn’t selfless. It was so that he could in some way feel good about himself for not being a fucking asshole like the vast majority. It was selfish reasons that made him make sure that Derek stayed, because he didn’t want to be like the rest but now, he’d probably selflessly throw himself in front of Kate fucking Argent to make sure he was safe. Fuck, he made it through high school with a sky-high libido but never really fell in love or got a huge crush. Lydia didn’t count, she was his best friend too now. But now, now he falls the fuck in love. Jesus Christ.

He battled with himself for the most part of the auction, a part of him wanted to buy them all and let them out in the world free but he couldn’t, it would kill them and he had to bite down bile the whole night.

“Aaand SOLD” the auctioneer yelled as a man smiled happily over the young working wolf he just bought. He could not wait to get out of here. “Next up is object number 37, a wolf from the pits, strong but getting slower, suitable for pitfighting or other entertainment of the sorts.” The man said and Stiles snapped his attention to the stage, number 37 was supposed to be Derek’s uncle and he guessed that could resemble the man on picture in the file. They literally dragged him up on the stage, chained and seemingly in pain. Those bindings had to be dipped in aconite. “He’s very aggressive, not ideal for homely surroundings or housework, but excellent for those of you looking for talent for the pits. Starting bid is low tonight, how about we start at a hundred?” it was almost like the auctioneer wanted to fail in selling the man, but the price was low and Stiles had a bag with _a lot_ more than that. Okay maybe he got this. “Any bidders?!” he yelled and Stiles looked at who raised the plaques in their hands. One, a mean looking man in the corner. Stiles put his up and there were honestly audible gasps from people around him. There wasn’t a lot of people, but there were around 20 bidders lined up on the pale blue clad steel chairs.  “Bane’s rings start the bid with $100, and we have a $120, the Sheriff’s kid has entered the bidding.” He laughed and a few voices followed. At Stiles’ bid of $250 the other guy folded. “Object 37 goes one, two, SOLD! Well then Stilinski collect your wolf.” He said and shook his head. He almost ran after the men who dragged the very angry wolf down the stage. Peter Hale cost less than a new phone.

“Who would have thought it was the other Hale you were after.” Kate snuck up on him out of nowhere and he didn’t like it one bit. Stiles just stared her down. “Liked your new pet? Sweetheart, you won’t like this one, Derek might do whatever you want him to if you play nice enough for a while but this one will rip your heart out if he gets a chance. He’s no good, except  chained up or fighting for his life. Call me when you want him gone cutie.” She positively purred and walked away, all that was stopping him from clubbing her in the face was the fact that he needed to somehow get Peter home without death being a happenstance.

* * *

 

The Sheriff usually was a very patient man but somehow this was slowly killing him, sitting outside and waiting for his son to come out after the auction ended, it had been about ten minutes now since it ended. His son would come out either with a highly deadly wolf in tow or with gloom and doom hanging over him, the kid had always been prone to either side of the emotion spectrum, but never staying somewhere in the middle, it was either all happy or all sadness with that kid. He would beat himself up forever if he didn’t make this. He drank his coffee as he waited and when the doors finally opened one of his deputies came out waving for him to follow. He took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. A few of the auctiongoers looked at him differently as he walked inside and he could not figure out if Stiles had caused a scene or disrupted one. As he entered the hall he figured he could gather why. He was standing with a few men, a few feet into the room and in the other end there was a man unconscious and a very, very angry werewolf crouching over him.

“Everyone get out.” He yelled and the deputies in the room quickly dissipated and so did the people in charge of the wolf. “NOW!” he added as a few of them took it as an invitation to load their guns. “Put those down and get the hell out, we’ll sort this out!” he said as he waved at the door. His men looked at him like he was crazy and he guessed he was. Clarity and a sense of self-preservation wasn’t something the Stilinski boys had in full.

“So Dad, I won the auction.” Stiles said with wide eyes as the werewolf came closer. The Sheriff had to choke down the need to point something deadly at the other man.

“I see that son. I think Derek might want him home soon though so what’s your bright idea?” he asked and Stiles just looked at him, he should have figured.

“I don’t have a plan now! I didn’t know I would actually win this!” he half screamed as the wolf inched closer, he didn’t seem mad anymore and his features was slowly changing back to that of a man’s. “Woah man, okay you are sniffing me. Holy balls.” He sputtered as the wolf yanked him forward and shoved his nose into his neck. The Sheriff was close to putting a bullet into him as the wolf shoved his face into his son’s neck but Stiles just shook his head.

“Derek’s not with her anymore.” Peter looked at them both and his voice was raw and angry.

“No, he’s with us, so like, you want to go there, peacefully?” Stiles tried and the wolf stood straight, his stature rising and he was tall, taller than his nephew and taller than any of the Stilinski boys.

“Well, I do know how to behave around people that aren’t a threat so you just tell me where to go. If you have harmed him though I will rip every little tiny bone from your body and feast on your remains.” Peter said and kept a stoic and calm face.

“Jesus Christ Stiles what have you gotten us into.” He wasn’t sure what he would do with his son, honestly the boy was a menace.

“It’s for...”

“Derek, I know.” He finished for his son and shook his head. “Just, both of you get in the car, without killing anyone. That applies to you both.” He sighed and herded them both out of there, after throwing of at least half of the chains on Peter. He also made sure the guard was breathing and safe before they left.

“Hey sassypants, you are coming with us? Derek is waiting so get in the god damned car.” Stiles complained when the wolf wouldn’t budge from where he was standing outside the vehicle. Stiles walked up to him and dropped the chain someone had handed him in all the fuss.   
“You shouldn’t unchain him sir” and of course his son would just stare at her, give her a shit eating grin and drop all the chains to the floor.

Jesus Christ, his son was worse than Claudia had been and it terrified him to death, what if his boy ended up the same way. He wouldn’t be able to handle that. Claudia’s death had almost destroyed him, he couldn’t even take care of his son at first, he hadn’t even been able to acknowledge the fact that the boy had lost his mother and was mourning, he’d just gone to work, fed his kid and drank. He couldn’t let him down now and he couldn’t watch his son go down the same path of justice his wife did. Only Stiles had already run halfway to the end of the lane.


	6. Chapter 6

Derek was pacing, positively going crazy. The Sheriff left just half an hour ago as Scott had come rushing in and demanding to come with, but now he sat on the couch and watched Derek pace a hole in the floor.

“You know he’s doing this just for you right?” Scott looked at him like he was trying to solve a riddle.

Derek nodded. “I know.”

“No, like legit doing it for you, not just doing it to keep you at peace or because it’s ‘the right thing to do’ but like trying to literally give you the world.” He continued and Derek stopped pacing. He stared at the other wolf with distrust. “No, seriously. You should stop dancing around him. He’s cool, I’ve known him my whole life. He’s an asshole from time to time but never mean. I will be the first one to tell him if he’s a dick, it’s known to happen.” He grinned and Derek huffed out a half laugh/half breath. He could see that happening. But Scott was right, he wasn’t a bad man, he was cheeky, a bit crazy, a little petty and a bad loser but he was a good man. Fuck it.

“What if…”  
“He doesn’t like you? Dude are you like blind? I can smell it from my own god damn house. He smells like a mixture of teenage libido and the most sickly-sweet scent of love if I’ve ever smelled it and I’m forced to watch Isaac swoon over a new person every day as he watches TV. How can you not see it?” he asked and looked frustrated. “Wait is this like sensitive, I know you’ve been through hell, if you’re not ready then keep dancing around him, but just, remember that he just wants you to be happy, he doesn’t care if you are happy with or without him at this point. Don’t sabotage it for yourself.” Derek sat down next to him and just listened and thought.

“I’m not, I think. Sabotaging. I’m just...” Not good at words. He growled in frustration.

“It fucked me up in a way I didn’t think it would, going from being human and free and all that into just being thrown into this shitfest. I was there for like two months at the pound before Stiles, his dad and my mother fought me out of there with everything they had and I didn’t even want to talk to them for like days. The shit the people there get away with is insane. Isaac was on the verge of a total breakdown, but he still found the time to piece me back together when I just collapsed man.” He kept looking at Derek and he started to feel the effect of Scott’s wounded look that Stiles had warned him of. “Once I got into the thinking, the gears of being a wolf, I realized that we, are not the weak ones, you guys fought your entire lives and still just fought to stay alive, I broke down so fast. I hate this life, but I never hate being a wolf, because it kept me alive.”

“Are you trying to tell me to trust my wolf?” Derek asked and rose an eyebrow.

“Yes! I’m not trying to teach you anything, I know you already know all this but I think you’re also ignoring your wolf dude, you smell so sad and yearning when you watch him.”

“Of course, you pay attention to that. Who even taught you these things?” he asked grumpily, he didn’t want to be so easily read by the puppy, and Scott was a puppy, his wolf was young and Scott was probably the most naïve person ever to exist but he was also kind. Always.

“Isaac, I told you, he pieced me together, I wanted to push it away so bad that it almost made me rabid. It was so easy to think it was the right thing to do. I’ve only been a wolf for four years but even I can see that your wolf wants it and you are just trying to use that as a keep away sign, your issue is trust and bro, that’s so human.”

“I trust him. I don’t know why.”

“Just, trust yourself Derek, trust that your decision matters.”

“I know it does, it’s just...”

“It’s hard to have a choice?” Scott asked and looked at him like he was solving a puzzle, not in the pitying way, but as a friend trying to help and it had been a while since Derek felt he actually had a friend. Or multiple friends. The other wolves at Kate’s never talked to him, not because he was bad news but because no one was allowed to, Derek was Kate’s.

“I guess it is.” And that was the problem wasn’t it, even when he was out in the world, when he was ‘free’, his only choice was running or being caught, or: blend in or get lynched. They were all wanting him to be able to make his own choices and it scared him.

Derek heard the Sheriffs’ car make its way down the road and practically jumped out of his skin as he made his way to the door. He’d heard about Peter, Kate had told him sometimes how crazy he was, about how he ripped his opponents literally in half and he couldn’t understand. Uncle Peter had always been a bit dubious in his morals but he also rarely did anything but act smug, piss people off for fun or read. She’d shown him a recording of a fight once, it was years ago, and Derek didn’t want to think of Peter as a monster but somehow, he had survived in the pits for six years.

He stood by the door, hand on the door handle and he had to think, he had to collect himself. There was a chance that they were coming back without Peter, and he had to go from there. That was where he had to keep his head if he wasn’t going to lose it. He opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, he didn’t go further. He wasn’t about to go running out into the street, with his luck someone would shoot him for not wearing a collar. Getting away with it once is probably all the luck he’s going to get. Peter probably wasn’t even in that car.

* * *

 

Stiles was a jittery mess and the older wolf sat so still beside him that he was positive he was a god damned zombie if it hadn’t been for his constant humming of “I see” as he stared out the window of the town.

“What are you ohhing and aahing about?” Stiles asked against his better judgement.

“Things has changed since last I was in Beacon Hills, they closed down the ice cream parlor on fifth?” he asked and the Sheriff nodded.

“Thirteen years ago.”

“Shame, they had really good ice cream.” Peter stated and kept looking out the window.

“What?” Stiles didn’t understand.

“I grew up here.” Peter said and Stiles felt his jaw drop.

“Like woah, wait, as like free people?” he asked, sensitivity be damned. Peter just chuckled.

“Mm, we were of course a smaller family back then, hiding, I was pretty young and it was just me, Talia and our parents then, we met up with a lot of the family when the laws got hardened and there were checks in place.” He said and pointed towards another building and asked the Sheriff something about a barber. Stiles just listened and hoped that someday they would get to walk around like that again, not in fear obviously.

“Is he seriously standing in the doorway creeping and looking all angry?” Stiles huffed, smile on his face.

“Ah, Derek, what have you been up too?” Peter sighed as he looked out the window.

“I take it he wasn’t always grumpy and closed off?” Stiles asked but he already knew the answer.

“No, not quite.” He said as it seemed that Derek heard them and actually took a few eager steps out of the house. Scott popping his head out behind him looking happy. They had heard them.

“Reunion time.” Stiles said and leapt out of the car trying, and failing, to drag Peter along with him. The man was a mountain. His father sighed and Peter chuckled. He was surprisingly cheery, he’d imagined they would get yet another family member with a grumpy attitude and miles deep wounds like the other McCall/Stilinski strays. Well, he obviously had, Stiles had studied basic psychology and he also wasn’t an idiot but he seemed to manage better than any of the other wolves.

“Peter?” Derek had never sounded so broken as he did right then and there and Stiles just dragged a now willing Peter up the porch and then shoved both his father and Scott through the door and left them for some privacy. He could hear them but not anything they were saying or doing but Scott looked both happy and a bit like he was about to cry so would assume it was a great reunion.

* * *

 Derek and Peter just sat there for most of the night before the actually spoke.

“How come you didn’t fight Stiles?” it had been bugging him since he saw them get out of the car, Peter hadn’t been restrained and he knew Stiles was nice but Peter didn’t and could’ve easily killed them and run if he were free from the chains in the car.

“He smells like you, I have no need to fight him. Why would I destroy something you actually seem to be happy about? He brought me to you because you asked, if I understood it correctly and I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth and fight him to just destroy what brought us together again, together we can do much more damage than apart. And Derek, I want to do damage.” His eyes gleamed with an intensity Derek had never seen before, with a madness that frankly scared him.

“I see.” Derek stared up at the sky. “He’s nice.” He said finally and Peter hummed.

“I figured. Your wolf likes him.” Peter stated and Derek said nothing, but he knew. He’d been trying to keep his wolf in check since he got here. Trying to quell whatever it felt for Stiles that he himself couldn’t. But maybe he could? Stiles took this moment to pop his head out the doorway.

“Sorry sorry, but there is cake. I made a cake. Because I promised myself you’d get cake.” He smiled as he popped back inside and Peter looked at him confused. Derek just shrugged but by now he was comfortable enough around Stiles and the Sheriff that he stood up and went into the kitchen.

Derek could hear him asking if it was too much and “shit it is, it’s too much. Fuck.” He huffed out a small laugh and Peter just looked at him like he’d solved the mystery of the universe.

As they came into the kitchen Stiles stood by a high homemade cake and looked a bit nervous. His father sighed and shook his head as he smiled broadly. The pride radiating off him.

“Stiles made you a Cake!” Scot said grinning and ushered the other wolves forward. Derek just stared at the cake, it’s colourful _Welcome home_ lettering shocking both him and Peter and it was like a dam broke down inside of him and all of this want, these feeling of trust and amazement of the boy who went well out of his way for _him,_ just flowed out. Stiles did this for him, for Derek, not caring that he was worn down or horrible company. He did it for Derek. Derek just looked at the slightly worried boy as Peter asked if it was chocolate. He felt the gaze of both Peter and Scott, who could without a doubt smell the inner turmoil rolling off him in waves as he grabbed hold of Stiles face and slowly, so, so slowly let his lips grace the younger man’s.   
“Hmmph.” He tried to say something, or he just made sound, but when Derek tried to back off Stiles just grabbed hold of his t-shirt and pulled him closer. Derek had no qualms about letting him, which was weird. He was sure being so close to another person again would be both horrible and unbearable. But like everything else, Stiles made it a new and exciting thing and he couldn’t wait to try it this way.

“Thank you.” He said instead and he could hear Peter roll his eyes as Stiles smiled like he’d seen the sun.


	7. Epilouge

Stiles was trying to remember all the things that was on the shopping list back home, on the table just where he left it so that he wouldn’t forget it. He groaned in frustration as he sprinted all over the store as he remembered thing after thing that was located at the other end of the store. His list was even organized after the store and his regular journey through the maze of food. He was on his way to the cereal as he bumped into a torso. A huge torso. He looked up and was greeted by a mean looking man and he just stared at him.

“Uh, sorry, gotta get through though.” He said and cringed, he could’ve gone around. He wasn’t as big as he sometimes thought in his lesser moments. But the beast-man didn’t move.

“Stilinski, hope you find what you are looking for.” _Kate._ She had a grim smile on and her boots clicked harshly at the floor as she made her villainous entry into the aisle.

“I would seem to have found most of it yes.” He said and he did not try to hide the disdain and irritation in his voice from her.

“How are the Hales working for you. I would assume you’ve found out exactly what kind of _work_ Derek is good at.” She grinned and Stiles was on his way to punch her when Mr. Muscles stopped him from walking up to her. “Does he still do that cute little thing where he zones out a little when it gets particularly _good?”_ she continued and Stiles knew she was goading him, trying to find out what he knew and what he thought about it, but he didn’t care. The bitch was going down. Once again Mr. Muscles made him keep his distance from the smug looking blonde.

“Fuck off!” he said instead and felt like he was in high school again.

“How do you think it makes me feel when my father throws away my precious little toy, leaves me all cold and lonely at night?” she continued and Stiles was fuming.

“Aw, did daddy hurt your feeling? Are you five?” She ignored him

“What makes me happy is the fact that his little plan of killing the mutt didn’t work. He should’ve just done it himself, but I understand the dramatical streak that runs in the family. This was more poetic and he could save his own hide and say my mutt had run away. He forgets I am just as clever as him” She said and smirked at him. Her villainous monologue did lose a few points considering she was trying to either a) bribe him or b) threaten him, in the isle with the sugary cereal and baking supplies. “I never loose _Stiles._ Never.” She said and walked away from him. Mr. Muscles gave him a stern look and followed a few steps behind.

Fuck the groceries. He was going to go home get a rifle and shoot her little perky attitude right off her head. He dumped whatever train of thought he’d had earlier and went to buy whatever he’d actually collected.

* * *

 

He entered the house fuming and Peter merely glanced up from his book as Derek almost chucked his against a wall as the smell of anger hit them straight on.

“What happened!?” Derek asked and the sheriff walked in from the kitchen.

“That _Bitch!_ I’m going to kill her and bury her body in at least ten fucking states!” he swore and Peter huffed out an agreement.

“You ran into Kate I assume.” Peter stated, his eyes still on whatever book he was reading. Derek looked like he had seen a ghost and sat down again.

“She was taunting me! Taunting! I’m going to kick her ass!” he threw the one bag of fruit and milk on the table as he sat down and looked at both Peter and Derek. “You want in?!” he asked like he was in a bad movie about gambling.

“Nephew, I do think there is some justice to achieve, don’t you?” Peter said and looked furious on a whole different level now, his facial features and his posture calm and collected but his eyes were burning and it was so scary it was thrilling.

“Is it time for the poetic justice yet? I hear it’s your thing, it’s also kind of mine.” Stiles asked and smirked as Peter looked at him like he was a godsend. The Sheriff sighed and rubbed his forehead before rising from his chair.

“Just keep me out of everything! Plausible deniability Stiles, remember? Just, no major crimes.” He said and walked out.

They were going to start a fucking rebellion and they needed to get to the “how, when and where” asap.


End file.
